


Right Hand on Red

by emmish



Series: Odyssey [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Accidental Stimulation, Awkward Boners, Awkward First Times, Banter, Blowjobs, Boys Kissing, Boys Will Be Boys, Confessions, Costumes, Cuddling & Snuggling, Embarrassment, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time Blow Jobs, Flirting, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Ignis Ships It, Inappropriate Erections, Innuendo, Intimacy, Kissing, Light Angst, Light Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Party, Party Games, Sharing a Bed, Sleepovers, Sleepy Noctis, Texting, bad language, canapes, cocktails, dressing up, emojis, handjobs, puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-08 08:26:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16425893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmish/pseuds/emmish
Summary: Prompto persuades Noctis to hold a Halloween party.Cocktails, Twister, and first time fumblings occur.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Speedofsound60](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Speedofsound60/gifts).



> For my RL OTL, SpeedofSound60, who gave me the prompt of sexy Halloween Twister XD ;)  
> Happy Halloween! This is complete, and the chapters will be posted over the next few days o((*^▽^*))o

 

 

 _Hey dude whatcha up to?_ ヾ(＾-＾)ノ – _P_

 

Noctis looked up from the list of biographies Ignis had dropped off at his apartment earlier that afternoon, providing some background on new appointments to the royal council. He was struggling to absorb the information. For him, the council had morphed into a single, grey-haired, humourless entity some time ago. Grinning to himself as he retrieved his phone and saw the message, he pushed the heel of his left hand into his eyes to scrunch away the tiredness, and used the other to rapidly type a reply to his best friend.

 

_The usual. Extra curricular stuff haha. What bout you? So tired. - N_

 

The reply was nearly instantaneous.

 

 _You're 'so tired' right after you wake up and have coffee that doesn't mean anything any more lol. I'm thinking bout Halloween. Wanna dress up!_ (*°∀°)=3 _\- P_

 

_Halloween's shit. Nothing happens except girls all dress as sluts and wander the streets and little kids suddenly think its okay to go to stranger's houses and ask for gifts – N_

 

_Oh man you are such a killjoy lol. And hey you calling me a slut ha – P_

 

_Depends what you're dressing up as – N_

 

_That's NOCT any of your business. Anyway dont you like looking at girls all dressed as maids and sexy vampires and stuff? (^_-)—☆ - P_

 

_Not that desperate – N_

 

_Clearly lol. Kay I'll leave you to it! - P_

 

_Don't you dare – N_

 

_Kidding haha. You seen the second trailer for the Kings Knight movie? OMG – P_

 

Noctis scooted the papers away from him on the kitchen table, rummaging blindly for a snack whilst texting back assiduously, a grin never leaving his features, and his eyes never leaving his phone.

 

* * *

 

It was their first year where September hadn't meant a grudging return to school and compulsory education. The giddy sense of relative freedom and the encroaching threat of real adulthood was still redolent, and both boys, just edging out of their teens, were experiencing a sort of lethargic excitement.

Prompto had promised himself that after Halloween, he would buck up his ideas and try and find something to occupy himself with. Noctis wasn't going into further education because of his position, and Prompto couldn't really face the idea of doing it himself if his best friend wasn't going to be around to experience it with. Still, he kept the option of a course or apprenticeship open, once he had found a job of some sort and had the money to pay for it.

For now, he enjoyed being able to hang out with the Prince more often, and in decidedly more comfortable and less anxiety-inducing surroundings than the classroom. Sitting in his living room one afternoon, home alone as usual and absently browsing on his laptop whilst listening to the cold drizzle on the windows, he was considering a nap (convinced that Noct's habits were starting to wear off on him) when the person in question texted him with a cheerful beep. He was definitely going to have to clear out his message log soon. He was fairly sure Noct's texts were taking up 99% of his (admittedly ageing) phone's memory and responsible for its increasing crashes recently.

_Free tonight? Bored – N_

Prompto chuckled quietly. Noct's text language might be expectedly short and laconic, but he spoke like that in real life too. He decided to toy with him. Glancing at the harmless music streaming site on his laptop screen, he replied easily.

_Can't watching porn – P_

_All night?? - N_

_I guess I can spare an hour or so – P_

_Damn straight – N_

'An hour or so' would of course actually mean about six hours, if he didn't just end up staying over.

_Shall I bring clothes? - P_

_Nah think you got some here – N_

_You got tomorrow off? - P_

_Yup – N_

_Party Time!_ (≧∀≦) _\- P_

_Cya soon? - N_

_Affirmative_ (⌐■_■) _– P_

_KK – N_

The blond clicked down the lid of his laptop, and started leisurely preparing for the sleepover, pulling off his shirt in the cool air of the room and making his way out to the bathroom, stretching his lean arms as he went.  


* * *

 

“So...definitely not doing anything for Halloween? It's only a week away,” Prompto asked, thumbs tapping loudly at his controller, eyes coolly scanning the massive flatscreen TV on the wall in front of them. The main lights were off, the sound was up, but torrential October rain and howling wind were still audible outside the Prince's luxurious flat.

“Nah,” Noct muttered distractedly, not as good at talking and gaming simultaneously as his best friend was. He tutted and swore under his breath as his character was obliterated by a shrapnel mine, and he was respawned some distance away and nearing the end of his quota of lives.

“I think I got an outfit. But, like...nowhere to wear it to,” the blond laughed awkwardly.

“Oh? Oh for fu...” the Prince cursed as he lost his final life, flinging down the controller and sitting back to watch Prompto continue, doing ridiculously well as usual.

“I don't wanna go trick or treating in it cos...well, I'm about a decade too old for that.”

“Just stay in. It's gonna be freezing anyway. Especially in your slutty nurse outfit or whatever you got planned,” Noctis smirked, folding his arms and getting comfortable in the corner of the leather sofa, shivering very slightly in just his T-shirt and jeans, but feeling altogether too lazy to go and find more clothes or a blanket. The heating was on low, because the higher temperatures felt stifling to Noct, and inevitably gave him a headache.

“It's obvious what _you're_ thinking about,” Prompto teased, clearing another checkpoint. “Pretty ladies in costume...”

“Shut up. That kind of thing is just...ugh.”

“'Ugh?'” the blond chuckled warmly. “You are totally gay, dude.”

“Whatever. _You're_ the one who wears make-up.”

“That was once. _Once_ , Noct. And thanks to you grabbing me, wiping it off and shouting at me I'm apparently not allowed to do it ever again,” Prompto griped, throwing his friend a playfully-irritated glance.

“It looked fucked up.”

“It was a _TINY_ bit of concealer. You have no clue, you don't have freckles. Everyone says, 'aw, they're so cute!' But I don't wanna be goddamn cute.”

“Don't think you have a choice there,” Noct shrugged.

Prompto hesitated, glancing at the Prince oddly. “I...I am _not_ cute, damn it.”

Noctis didn't reply, just shrugged again and sighed, before laughing viciously as the blond finally lost his first life in the game, a sniper having shot his character in the chest, crumpling to the battlefield in a pixel-splash of blood.

* * *

 

They were getting ready for bed when Noctis cleared his throat in the eye-watering gloom of his bedroom, illuminated only by an orange spotlight in the wall (Prompto called it his 'nightlight,' and he wasn't far wrong).

“We could do it here, if you want. Get Iggy and Gladio involved, and whoever else.”

“Do what now?” Prompto asked as he shucked off his hoodie and jeans and slipped into the bed, looking at his phone distractedly. “You gotta stop saying things out of thin air like that. It confuses me.”

“Doesn't take a lot,” Noct replied, without malice. He joined his best friend, wearing just his boxers, sliding under the heavy, black silk covers of the bed which was monolithic enough to accommodate a third whole person with ease. “I mean the party. Party-type thing.” The Prince's voice was lowering and quiet, as if he was already on the verge of unconscious sleep.

“Yeah?” Prompto asked brightly, twisting in the bed to face his friend, who lay some distance away across the vast black-sheeted mattress. “That'd be awesome! You can dress up too!”

“What's your obsession with that,” Noctis asked weakly, yawning into his forearm and closing his eyes before turning to mirror his friend.

“You've never tried it? Hey, maybe you don't like it cos they _make_ you dress up all the time. For royal dances and...stuff.”

“Nice deduction,” the Prince grinned, snuggling into his bed and sighing. “Maybe I will. Low-key. Maybe not. Iggy would dress up, though. He's good at stuff like that.”

“Stuff like what?” came the chirpy query in the gloom.

“Well...he's good at everything, so it stands to reason.”

“And Gladio?”

“Uhh...I dunno. He can come as some kinda beefy gladiator.”

“So he's not dressing up either,” Prompto chuckled sweetly.

“Exactly. Now shut up, m'tired.”

“Yeah yeah, night dude.”

The blond let out a long, noisy exhale, and then a little squeak of pleasure at cocooning himself into the covers.

There was relative silence for a few minutes, except the ball-bearing rattle of heavy rain on the wall-sized windows, and the random grumble of thunder.

“You cold?” Noct asked suddenly, raising his voice above the rain.

“Nah, kinda cool. I'm okay.”

“Oh.”

Prompto waited a little while for elucidation, and then sniggered. “You wanna snuggle up?”

He sniggered louder at the answering growl of irritation.

“Gods' _sake_ , Prom.”

“You do, don't you.”

“Just shut up.”

“Here I come,” Prompto warned in a sing-song, scooting across to hook an arm around his best friend and give him a playful squeeze and an over-the-top head nuzzle, laughing into the Prince's hair.

“Gah, you're a dick,” Noctis muttered darkly, though he didn't resist very hard.

“Mm-hm! But I'm a _warm_ dick,” Prompto agreed, hugging his best friend tight. “Not like it's the first time,” he added, more quietly.

Noctis said nothing, but pressed himself into his best friend's enthusiastic cuddle, head down, eyes closed, falling asleep within two minutes.

  


* * *

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

_OMG dude prepare to have a raging boner all night_ C==(( ) _– P_

 

Noctis was rummaging in his closet when he checked the message on his phone, fishing it out of his cargo pants and peering at it dazedly. He used his free hand to take hold of the banana he was grudgingly snacking on, being all out of chocolate, and briefly pondered the likelihood of getting a text like that whilst eating a banana for the first time in about eight years.

 

_The hell?!? - N_

 

_Yea I look shit hot – P_

 

_...I don't even – N_

 

 _Just a fair warning lol. What's on the menu tonight?_ (ᵇ ͤ  ͤ  ͬ (ᵔ) ◟(º εº ) _\- P_

 

_Iggys gonna do cocktails – N_

 

_that makes me feel super classy haha – P_

 

_They sounded lethal – N_

 

 _Perfect_ ヽ(⌐■_■)ノ♪♬ _–_ _P_

 

_You better not throw up in my flat, lightweight – N_

 

_No promises haha jk. Who's coming? - P_

 

_Not Iris she has REAL friends lol. Gladio's coming for Ig's drinks. Ig's coming cos he feels sorry for me – N_

 

 _Aw poor you. Its NOCT so bad you only really need me there to have fun_ ヘ( ^o^)ノ＼(^_^ ) _– P_

 

_It depresses me how true that is – N_

 

 _Meany_ (ｰ ｰ;) _– P_

 

_Right leave me alone I gotta get ready – N_

 

 _You dressing up?!_ ┗(＾∀＾)┛ _\- P_

 

_Maybe. Sorta – N_

 

_OMGGG so excited – P_

 

_BYE prom – N_

 

_MEAN – P_

 

After the spate of messaging had finally ended, Noctis snickered to himself and went back to riffling vaguely through his closet, sighing in quiet frustration. He glanced at the time on his mobile, then at the drizzly gloom outside his window. Two hours to find something to wear.

 

* * *

 

Not long after Prompto's texts, Ignis had arrived, early enough to cook some of the food he hadn't already prepared and brought with him in sleek lidded platters. Noct had been recruited to help him bring bottles and boxes from Iggy's (gorgeous) green sports car in the underground garage, up to the penthouse.

“You brought a lot of stuff, Specs. Don't tell me you're as nuts about Halloween as Prompto.”

“Hardly, but I'll admit I can't quite resist the lure of a dinner party.”

“Actually, I think Prompto's plan is to get wasted and play loud music and take a ton of selfies in his outfit. Not sure 'dinner party' is the right term.”

“Be sure to steer him away from the sheepskin rugs. If he spills something I intend to leave it to you to clean up, and it won't be an easy task.”

“Yeah yeah, I'll keep an eye on him,” Noctis shrugged, doubting his best friend would get _quite_ that drunk. He also estimated that in the event of a mess, Ignis would insist on helping him to clean it up, if only as a 'hands-on tutorial.' The Prince cleared his throat and rubbed his hands as the last of the party gear was deposited in the kitchen. “You, uh. You look good.”

“Thankyou, Highness,” Ignis replied with a pleased smile. “It really is nothing, though.”

“Better than mine,” Noctis mumbled, watching the older man turn down the lights, and igniting a series of orange and black candles around the darkened apartment with his stick lighter. His advisor looked absurdly sharp. He had informed Noct when he arrived that he was a vampire, except that he looked pretty much like he normally did – only, he had forgone his glasses for contacts that were a slightly brighter green than his natural eye colour, and he had applied some sort of pale foundation, just a tad lighter than his own skin. Ignis had claimed that 'vampires look just like everybody else.' When Noct had queried the lack of fangs, the advisor told him that the teeth only erupted immediately prior to an attack. He then went on to tell him that vampires can't hurt you in your own home unless you invite them in, so Noctis had better watch his back.

The Prince watched Ignis open platters of pretty-looking canapés, and arrange bottles of various wines and liqueurs. He also produced a glittering silver cocktail shaker, as well as a few associated but inexplicable silver instruments. Noct eyed the taller man's suit wistfully. “Is that new?”

Ignis paused to pat down his maroon velvet waistcoat, over a sleek black shirt. He wore a dark gold cravat around his neck. “No, merely something I threw together out of rarely-worn items.”

“Being a vampire suits you,” Noctis said, with a huff of laughter. 

“Thankyou. And you look good as a...cat?”

“Cat _burglar_ ,” Noctis corrected him, blushing. “I'm nobody's pet – I don't _belong_ to anybody.”

“I'm sure Prompto begs to differ.”

Noctis paused, perplexed. “Huh?”

“Never mind,” Ignis assured him, waving his queries away and instead offering a sleek tray of elegant mini desserts. “Try one.”

Noctis paused, and then picked up a little green cake-thing, raising an eyebrow. 

“Mint and chocolate macaron,” the older man told him.

Taking a bite, Noctis chewed thoughtfully, before nodding and moaning. “S'good,” he muttered, spraying a couple of green crumbs, to the chagrin of his advisor.

“There should be more than enough food and drink,” Ignis said.

“Well you were in charge of it, so that goes without saying,” Noctis huffed, amused. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure. Shall we put some music on?”

 

* * *

 

An hour later, Gladio rocked up, two boxes of beer tucked under his bulky arms, and a rakish grin on his face when Noct opened the door, scratching his head self-consciously and nursing a tumbler of wine (despite Ignis' insistence on using the correct glassware).

“Hey kitten,” the Shield laughed, squeezing through the door sideways and grunting as he deposited the boxes on the floor by the crowded kitchen table. His outfit was a simple pirate-themed one, he wore knee-high cuffed brown boots, a white shirt with subtle frills, and had a plastic cutlass on a multi-layered belt around his waist. A cuddly parrot was attached to his shoulder, wobbling precariously, and a red headband kept his waved hair out of his face. Accessorised with his own scars, the entire look was pretty effective.

Gladio glanced around, the apartment semi-dark, and judiciously dotted with candles and a few expensive Halloween decorations that Ignis had purchased, glass pumpkin candle holders and skeleton ornaments. The steady, rhythmic bass of the music vibrated the floor, the sultry rock anthem loud enough to invigorate but not annoy. Battering October rain was still audible outside, the half-shuttered windows displaying a purple-black, soaked sky.

“Gah! I knew this was a bad idea,” Noct grumbled, downing a quick mouthful of wine and scuffing his way across the shadowy kitchen back to Ignis, who was holding a blue cocktail that he had constructed for himself.

“You do that yourself? It's not bad,” Gladio complimented him, unpacking the first box and unloading beer bottles into the hefty fridge. He gestured at Noct's overall outfit, causing the Prince to curse and blush, the heroic pink of his embarrassment visible even in the gloom.

“It wasn't too hard,” the younger man shrugged. He glanced down at himself, and fiddled with his stiffly-gelled hair. After no small amount of fretting and experimenting, he had decided on one of his normal black T-shirts and some black jeans. However, he had sculpted two tufts of his silvery-black hair into a good approximation of cat ears, and then tied the thick rope of his fluffy black dressing gown into the belt loop at the back of his jeans, giving him a tail. Lastly, he had retrieved a long bow tie from the back of a drawer, cut out two oval holes and trimmed a few rogue threads, and tied it round his head as a black eyemask. Secretly, he was quite proud of his impromptu achievement.

“Prompto not here? Thought he'd be the first,” Gladio asked, fishing around the gleaming trays of canapés and hooking himself a large handful of savoury pastries and smoked salmon crackers.

“Probably still messing with his hair,” the Prince replied distractedly, taking out his phone and checking for new messages, seeing with muted disappointment that there were none. “There's still time. You're both just early.”

He turned up the music volume a little higher on the elaborate system that was incorporated into the walls, adjusted with a simple touch-sensitive pad. Noctis relaxed a little more as he absorbed the comforting thump of one of his favourite songs, even humming along before surreptitiously gulping a little more wine, loathe to broadcast his nervousness to his friends.

 

* * *

 

Ten minutes before the appointed time, Noctis found himself palpitating and choking on his wine when a rambunctious knock on his door sounded across the now comfortingly-loud music. Ignis and Gladio were chatting at an elevated volume, leaning against the marble kitchen island, whilst Noct had been mostly listening to them and self-consciously checking his inactive phone.

“That'll be Prompto,” Gladio called out, before murmuring something to the advisor, chuckling into his beer and getting affectionately scolded by Ignis. The Prince hesitated before putting his wine down in a rare space on the kitchen counter, having to nudge aside a tray of bon-bons and a stack of orange and black napkins. He got to the door, biting the inside of his cheek anxiously before pulling it open.

Prompto stood before him, arms spread gloriously and a fiendish grin on his elfin features.

“Party time, bitches!” the blond announced. 

Noctis stared for almost ten seconds, and then cleared his throat instinctively.

“Fuck.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of Noct's music: ◙▒◙♫♩♬ ;) Catatonia - Do You Believe In Me, Feeder - Summer's Gone, Godhead - Push, Local H - Hands on the Bible, QOTSA - The Lost Art of Keeping a Secret, New World Revolution - Killing Buddha, Shivaree - Goodnight Moon, Muse - Futurism ♫♩♬

 

“Uh...” Noctis uttered, staring. 

“Haha!” Prompto laughed brightly, his freckled face crinkling. “Lost for words, huh? I guess I've succeeded.” He entered the open-plan apartment, turning to drag a large cardboard box inside with him. The sides of the box looked battered and a bit torn, and the contents were pushing up through the lid flaps. The blond pushed the door shut behind him and struck a pose for the benefit of the two men in the low-lit kitchen, who were making their way over to greet him. 

“What do ya think, guys?”

In a dissimulation of indifference, Noctis wandered off to refill his mostly-empty tumbler of wine, closing his eyes briefly as the bittersweet liquid glugged into the glass, and internally yelling at himself for agreeing to this. As much as he tried to focus on the deep, pulsing beat of the sultry rock anthem swelling through the room, he couldn't help overhearing the others talk, their voices loud over the music. In the warm gloom, Noctis stared twitchily at the grinning ceramic skeleton posed on the marble counter in front of him.

“You must be freezing,” Gladio was laughing, giving Prompto what was for him a soft punch on the bicep, but felt to the blond like a bruise-inducing force nevertheless. 

“Eh, I got the bus, so not much of a walk. Worth it!” Indeed, despite the heavy October rain, Prompto was barely damp.

“I'll make you a cocktail, Prompto? What would you fancy?” Ignis asked politely, putting his own drink down.

“I want a Leg Spreader.”

“Don't we all,” Ignis added dryly, chuckling to himself.

“Naughty, Specs! Well, I guess you're not Specs tonight. You look super hot without your glasses,” Prompto winked, waiting for his strong drink to be made and fiddling with one of the many orange candle holders that brightened the darkness, watching the long flame flicker.

“He's a dark horse when he's had a few of his own concoctions,” Gladio snorted, gulping a few mouthfuls of beer, letting out a satisfied sigh and turning his head to attempt to adjust the wobbly toy parrot pinned on his broad shoulder.

Prompto took his Martini glass with a grateful coo, took a sip, and then hissed. “Oh shit, that's good.”

“You'll be on the floor in five minutes,” Gladio predicted.

“No way guys! At least, not yet. I brought party games! When we're all pissed we can turn the lights up and play!”

“Party games?” Ignis asked, intrigued, back to sipping on his own elegant blue cocktail, the third of the night. 

“Yeah you know, Truth or Dare, Twister, Cards Against Humanity...I brought some video games too!” 

“Sounds like a rich, full evening,” the advisor smiled. “Noct's lined up what seems to be approximately four thousand music playlists, too.”

Noctis flinched as he heard his best friend's exuberant voice call in his direction. “Noct! Buddy! Why are you skulking around over there? Let me get a good look at you. And check out my outfit! Look at all the accessories and stuff!”

The Prince turned, breathlessly and suddenly face-to-face with the blond, who squealed excitedly when he got a proper look at Noct's self-styled cat ears, his tactile hands immediately going up to fondle them. Noct heard the benign sniggers of the older men, and growled his private embarrassment to himself, his skin itching with heat at the blond's inspection. Strong hands went behind him to pull the black, makeshift tail forward, Prompto bouncing its weight in his palms. Finally, fingertips smoothed gently over the black eyemask that was doing little to shield the Prince's blushes.

“Do you have to _touch_ things to be able to see them?” Noct complained sullenly, groaning as his best friend clapped him on the shoulder, dazzling him with an impish grin.

“Dude, you look totally, 100% fuckable. If I was into guys, I'd be all over you.”

Noctis was muted with an odd, excited sort of horror at this announcement.

“'If?'” Ignis called out to the blond casually. 

“Hey, I never said I liked guys, Ignis!” Prompto retorted, folding his arms and trying to look put out. 

“You didn't need to,” came Gladio's distant observation. 

“Ack! Leave me alone, okay?” Prompto held up his hands, chuckling. “Hey, maybe we should get a photo now, before we get too, uh...tired and emotional, haha!”

Noctis still had said barely a word, nursing his now-warm wine, gripped in a hand hot with intrigued anxiety. As Prompto fiddled with his mobile, smoothing himself down and arranging the older men against a long series of dark kitchen cabinets as a photo background, the Prince took the time to finally, _really_ look at him.

His best friend was in full, if slightly exaggerated, military ensemble. Not the elegant designer gear of the Crownsguard or Kingsglaive, but the rough-and-tumble fatigues of a foot soldier. Prompto loved wearing boots, but the knee-high black combat boots with very long, criss-cross laces he wore now blew his normal slouchy footwear out of the water. They covered baggy, desert-style camouflage fatigues, which were accessorised with a few thick leather belts. On his torso he wore only a tight black tank top, with silver dog tags that glittered and bounced with every capricious movement and gesture. His normal wrist and armbands were in evidence, suiting the rest of the outfit well, highlighting his enviable hard biceps and lean forearms. His hair was sculpted with gel as always, only it was far more messy and hung about his face, rather than being forced into its typical upright quiff. The final touch was a few finger-smears of mercenary-black warpaint, across his high cheekbones and nose, obliterating most of his playful freckles. 

The Prince was caught staring, when Prompto whirled round to usher him closer for the first of what would presumably be many photos, no doubt of increasingly degrading quality as the alcohol took effect, regardless of Prompto's unquestioned skill.

“Come on Noct, picture time! I've got my camera too so we can do some wider shots later.”

Noctis allowed himself to be tucked into a wobbly and impromptu group hug in the kitchen, Prompto holding up his phone as they squished together to get all their faces in focus.

“You're on the edge, squeeze in a bit,” the blond instructed, hooking his free hand around the Prince's waist and pulling him close beside him, bumping their hips. To his dismay, Prompto took hold of his black tail and wrapped it around his fingers a few times, before teasingly tugging on it. 

“Gotcha,” came the dirty chuckle. “'Kay everyone, smile!” 

The muscles of his right hand stiff and painful from clenching his glass, his breath quickened and his head feeling swimmy, Noctis downed the rest of his wine with zero finesse, and then managed a tight smile. It melted as soon as it had manifested; the tinny camera noise sounded at the same time that Prompto pushed a hard and playful kiss onto his cheek, a giggle rumbling from the blond's throat, through their joined skin, and into Noct's core.

 

* * *

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

Prompto chortled when the Prince shoved him away with an irritable grumble, sending him staggering.

“That's a keeper!” The blond winked, giving Noct's improvised tail another playful tug before letting him go, allowing the Prince to skulk away and refill his glass once more. Noctis bit his bottom lip, head feeling a little swimmy and eyes a bit hazy as he watched Prompto chitchat energetically with his advisor. A vague sense of confused irritation throbbed through him when his best friend touched the top of Ignis' impressive quiff and flashed his thousand-watt grin. 

“Don't get too jealous. Iggy _does_ look pretty damn cool,” a gruff remark suddenly sounded in his ear from a few inches above him.

“I'm not jealous. I'm not anything,” Noctis frowned, exhaling hard enough in an annoyed sigh to accidentally blow a few drops out of his tumbler of wine.

Gladio leaned on the dark marble counter beside his ward, knocking back his beer easily. “Try and cheer up. These kind of nights are gonna be rarer soon. Should make the most of it while you can.”

“Gods, I _know_ , alright. I know it's all gonna change,” Noct mumbled, eyes down. He scratched at the stiff gelled hair of his cat ears distractedly. He was forced forward with a hearty slap on his shoulderblade, which preceded a distinct shudder of thunder outside the spotless, rain-drenched window of his penthouse.

“No-oct!” came the blond's singsong voice from across the room, and Noctis was soon swept up in an eager arm, Prompto's other hand engaged with a fresh cocktail, this time something yellowish and creamy. It didn't look all that appetising.

“What's that?” the brunette asked, nodding at the beverage in the Martini glass, and glancing back at Ignis, who looked smug.

“Cock-Sucking Cowboy,” Prompto nodded sagely. 

“...No need to get personal,” Noct shrugged, before wincing at the high-pitched laughter that greeted his quip, like a tsunami after a mere tectonic rumble. The current song faded out and was soon replaced with a thumping bassline and a grinding guitar riff. One of his favourite rock songs, the Prince allowed himself to grin, and finally try and ease off the vague, nameless anguish that he was feeling. His emotional about-turn was facilitated with infinite speed by the alcohol he had already consumed, and he found himself giggling with his friend, who was once again cooing over his outfit.

 

* * *

 

After an hour of increasingly-loud chatter, which was followed by turning up the volume on the music (which inexplicably seemed, to the drinking men, to have quietened) and then by even louder talking, Prompto finally busted out the party games.

“You guys ever played any of these? I haven't since I was little and actually used to get invited to parties. You know, other kid's parents inviting everybody in school cos they want their kid to look popular, ha! Well, I've played Twister, anyway. The others are kinda adult. I figured they might be fun though!”

“Prompto, it hardly seems necessary to suggest that you only purchased Truth or Dare in order to contrive an occasion to 'make out' with his Highness,” Ignis said coolly, his bright green contacts giving his expression a veneer of attractive menace.

“Good old Iggy. Even after five cocktails, he still speaks like a freakin' thesaurus,” Gladio observed, fondly impressed.

Prompto was going round the room, turning on a few plump little lamps, and they all groaned at the slight increase in illumination, rubbing their drink-tired eyes despite the fact that the apartment was still shadowed and warmly gloomy.

“I don't need to contrive anything! He's totally up for it,” Prompto assured them jokingly, snickering to himself.

“Objection,” Noctis offered, waving a wobbly hand and sucking sweetly on his wine.

“Overruled!” The blond responded with energetic double finger guns in his direction. His skin was looking a little sheened, the black warpaint across his fine cheekbones and nose very slightly smudged. The long, stringy laces that criss-crossed his heavy combat boots were coming undone and starting to trail, and the instantaneous and random idea that Noct had, to kneel on the floor in front of his friend and do them back up for him, made him feel oddly giddy.

“Twister okay with everyone? Better do that one first 'cos soon I'll be falling over even _without_ being in a dumb position on a mat,” the blond chuckled. While he waited for his answer, bopping his head hard to the current spiralling heavy metal tune, he took advantage of the slightly brighter room to snap some more photos of his friends, and selfies of himself pulling absurd faces, baring his teeth, and pouting dramatically.

“Count me out,” Gladio told the room in general as Ignis unpacked the box of games with some curiosity and pulled out the Twister packaging. “That shit's for kids.”

Ignis opened the box and pulled out a cardboard spinner, ignoring the instruction leaflet, and unrolling the plastic, brightly-coloured sheet, smoothing it out onto the pristine laminate of Noct's living area, not even needing to move the sofa to make room for it.

“It does look a little...miniature,” Ignis said thoughtfully. “Perhaps you and Noctis should partake alone. Gladio and I will referee.”

“Okay,” Prompto shrugged cheerfully, boogeying over to the mat and doing a few experimental handstands, his silver dogtags glittering as they swung near his face. “Yeaaah, I can do this,” he told himself whilst balancing upside down, attempting to walk a few paces on his hands, but overbalancing into a roll with a sharp yelp.

“I've got this in the bag,” Noct said laconically, sniggering into his current glass of wine, groaning at the bittersweet taste and making his way closer, woozy with quiet confidence. “Handstands aren't gonna help you win, dumbass.” 

“They might when I have to straddle _your_ lazy ass,” Prompto retorted, sitting up and rubbing at his spine. 

“Gentlemen,” Ignis called out, putting aside his elegant glass. “Shall we begin?”

 

* * *

 

“Ah, we shoulda figured out a prize for the winner. Or a forfeit for the loser at least. Though it'd be hard to embarrass Noct any more when he's wearing a freakin' pussycat costume...”

“Shut up, you said I look hot,” Noct spat back, a little red-faced from several glasses of wine, the apparent and sudden near-furnace heat of the room, and from holding his precarious position.

They had started on opposite sides of the plastic mat, Prompto beginning with a hand on green, Noctis with a foot on red.

“Yeah, you do look hot. But you're still embarrassed as fuck,” the blond chuckled dirtily, his firm biceps shivering as he held himself up. Drinking, it seemed, made him more inclined to vulgarity, and he had been swearing liberally since the game started, much to Noct's beguilement.

“Damn it, this isn't fair, I can't even see,” the Prince complained, pulling a twisted face as he tried to adjust his slipping eyemask without the use of his hands. He was currently on all fours facing upwards, crab-like, staring up at the ceiling as he waited with growing impatience for the next spin. When it came, a yellow spot for Prompto, he tutted in annoyance as he best friend pushed off the mat and smacked his right hand onto the garish dot in question. In his new position, one arm across Noct's slim belly, he winked saucily. “Hey.”

“If you start leaning on me I'm gonna kill you,” Noct muttered, clearing his throat and groaning as he adjusted his weight in his arms and legs. Somewhere in the back of his fogged mind, it occurred to him that this game would be absurdly easy if he hadn't had about six glasses of wine. As it was, he felt stiflingly-hot, his muscles were sleepy, and he was precarious on the plastic. Prompto's pointed chin nearly digging into his sternum wasn't helping either.

“Noct, right hand green,” Ignis called out, as Gladio chuckled, swirling the beer in his can enjoyably as both older men anticipated the Prince's impasse. 

“I...how the hell can I do that? _Uggh_ ,” Noct growled, as Prompto giggled helplessly. 

“Dude, one back here,” the blond offered, nodding his head in the spot's direction.

“I...ah, shit,” came the quiet hiss. “You're frickin' all over me, I'm trapped.” 

“All part of the game!” 

Noctis exhaled hard through his nose and hauled himself up, using the impetus to twist himself and fling one arm across Prompto's hips, where the blond was in a crouch on the mat, to the dot on the other side of him. Impressively, he neither fell nor jostled his best friend, and he found himself in a rough mount against the side of his friend's pelvis, breathing hard. A polite smattering of applause sounded from his advisor and Shield, and Noct finally allowed himself a huff of laughter. 

“Nice one, dude!” Prompto flashed him a grin as the spindly spinner was once more set in motion. 

Prompto's arms were crossed awkwardly, and he sighed in relief when the next spin allowed him to uncross them, ending up in a reasonably comfortable position, with the Prince silently enduring his own position, now practically pressed up against Prom's backside. 

“This is too good,” Gladio observed, sitting back on the chrome kitchen stool he was dwarfing. Ignis nodded in agreement, and pulled out his own sleek phone to get a few snapshots as the boys on the mat both yowled in indignation.

The Shield stood up to get a fresh beer, cursing quietly as the parrot pinned to his shoulder finally fell off. He picked it off the laminate floor, and propped it up against Ignis' gleaming cocktail shaker in the shadowy kitchen. He popped the fresh, icy-cool can open and paused to turn the volume on the rumbling classic rock song a little higher, feeling the floor practically vibrate and the close, warm air buzz with the adrenaline of sound.

“Don't know what you expected,” Gladio shrugged. “Everyone knows you _always_ end up humping somebody's ass in Twister.” 

“Arguably why Prompto brought it in the first place,” Iggy murmured, with a refined shrug. 

“Yeah yeah, enough jokes, guys,” the blond laughed, hanging his head. “...Anyway, I was kinda hoping to be on top,” he added, with a sly wink. 

Noctis coughed behind him and shook his head in mortification, trying to think of something other than the hard press of his best friend's rump against his own hips, delightfully solid, and jolting with every giggle from his chattering, chuckling companion. Waiting for the spinner, he was disappointed when the move resulted in one hand moving one spot to the right, making his position, both literal and figurative, more uncomfortable.

“Enjoying yourself back there, Highness?” Prompto asked with melodic sweetness, making the most of his easy position to bump his ass back into his friend's crotch, though not hard enough to overbalance him.

“Stop it,” Noct mumbled, frowning, and feeling a prick of sweat tickle down from under his long fringe, and into the fabric of his eyemask.

The next few moves were more simple hand shifts, back and forward between adjacent dots. Noctis' throat felt dry, and he was thirsty. Eyelids heavy, but his body invigorated with the alcohol he had consumed, he focussed as best he could on staying upright, having to actually hold himself in position, unlike Prompto who was crouching easily. His eyemask still a little askew, he found himself staring at the back of his best friend's neck, decorated with the silver dogtag chain and a sprinkling of pretty freckles.

_Pretty? Jeez. I'm so fucking drunk._

Following the visible little bumps of Prompto's vertebrae, Noctis watched the line of his spine move slightly as the blond head-banged gently to the music, humming along randomly. The arms that were holding him up were ludicrously toned, his shoulders round and hard. And his legs...fuck, they were so long. They looked skinny, but they were strong. What if he was to just knock him down and wrestle him right now? Would he win? Prom was a runner but Noct trained hard too, full-body stuff. Bet he'd be easy to pin down. Just slippery. He'd probably cheat too, start tickling or something. Those legs would probably end up around his waist, squeezing him tight-

Suddenly Prompto gave him a cheery warning, and with a loud 'hup!' twisted his lithe body around, adjusting his feet and settling into his new position, crab-like and facing upwards. Facing _Noct_ , who was mounted clumsily above him, eyes caught by the dog tags glittering upon his chest and the malicious affection in his friend's blue eyes.

“You can lower down a bit now. Be easier to hold yourself up,” the blond suggested, and once Noct had judged their positions, he mutely acquiesced, ending up in a more comfortable but infinitely more humiliating press-up position on top of Prompto, at a slight angle. Their faces parallel, he heard the blond's quiet snuffling laughter in his left ear.

“Dude, you are not gonna last much longer,” Prompto teased, whispering right against his skin. “And I think I'm stepping on your tail.” He made a show of craning his head to analyse Noct's backside, and raised his eyebrow apologetically. “Sorry kitty.”

Noct said nothing, and moved his right hand following his next instruction, anxiety tumultuous in his throat and in his dizzy head as he battled to stretch his neck and keep his face away from Prompto's, which was excruciatingly close now.

“Hanging in there, Noct?” Gladio called out, grinning in the gloom of the kitchen. The Prince struggled to make baleful eye contact with him. 

“I refuse to lose this shitty game.”

“Hear hear,” Ignis raised his glass supportively, smirking as he twirled the spinner once more. “Prompto, right foot red.” 

“Ah...right...this is gonna be awkward,” the blond muttered to himself, tilting his head and trying to see where his own feet currently were. “Um...ah-ha!”

He snaked his combat booted-foot towards the intended dot with a few panting breaths, laughing ecstatically when he reached it, but then groaning in pain at having to hold himself in another difficult position.

“Shit, this is worse than the gym,” Prom sighed. “Oh hey...Noct, this is perfect. We should do it like this,” he chuckled, his teeth flashing brightly and his elfin features crinkling in mirth.

“Huh?”

Prompto nodded illustratively. “This is how we would fuck. Face to face,” he sniggered, baring his teeth in fiendish fun. He laughed in honest amusement when Noct choked and almost collapsed, his pale face bright red. “Oh man, too easy!! Just gotta talk dirty til you fall down, haha!”

“That's a little unfair, Prompto,” Ignis suggested.

“Nothing in the rules against it!”

“...You are flawlessly correct. The instructions do not impose penalties for distractions of a sexual kind,” the advisor informed them, scrutinising the rules on the folded paper. 

Gladio burst out laughing. “Iggy, how are you so damn classy after so much booze,” he stated affectionately.

“Impeccable breeding, my dear friend. Now, let us continue. I have a feeling this game is nearly at an end.” Ignis drank more of his current brightly-coloured cocktail, and spun the arrow once again. Noctis groaned when he saw where it landed. He had seen every spin, and Ignis, to his credit, had not altered or affected the results at all. It was just unbelievably bad luck that meant that he was now between his friend's legs, not knowing what he should make his priority to avoid – contact with Prompto's body, or contact with those goddamned amazing blue eyes, inches from his face.

Still in his sprawled press-up position on top of the blond, he was forced to scoot one foot to the side, lowering his hips, which he struggled to keep off of his friend's body. He looked down to see what he could do to save himself from this, if there was any kind of movement or shift he could make to ameliorate the situation, but the fact was, he was between Prompto's spread, fatigue-clad legs, and his weakening muscles meant that every few seconds, he dusted the blond's crotch with his own. Breathing very hard, he frowned in concentration and clenched his aching muscles as hard as he could to keep himself upright, lactic acid burning in his arms and legs.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, swallowing raggedly and panting for breath as his arm muscles shuddered. Prompto had gone oddly quiet, looking at his friend with a blank expression, seemingly mesmerised by the tremulous bump of Noct's crotch against him, fascinated by the anguish in his friend's face and the effort he was suffering to maintain his dignity. The blond preserved his uneasy silence when he felt the unmistakable, stiff and eager tent in his friend's black jeans, feeling suddenly awash with a kind of pitying horror. Trying to meet Noct's eyes, to ascertain if he was okay, to silently question him, he saw nothing but tightly shut eyelids and a belligerent, red-flushed expression.

As Ignis spun again, Prompto whispered urgently to him, out of earshot of the other men, above the thumping music. 

“Dude...Noct, do you wanna stop?”

The Prince swallowed visibly and let out a shivery, desperate exhale, and it occurred to Prompto that it looked like he was about to burst into tears.

“Shit...Noct, it's okay, let's stop, it's just a dumb game...”

“Right hand on red, Prompto,” Ignis called out. 

“I...uh...” Hesitant, the blond eyed up his options. He was gratified to see that he had next to no chance of reaching the red, so he made a token effort, and then let himself finally collapse onto the (now warm and slightly damp) plastic sheet, blowing out a hard breath and groaning at the burn of his muscles. In the same instant, Noct stumbled onto his feet and stalked from the darkened room, ripping off his eyemask and breathing stentoriously.

Prompto scratched the back of his head, and glanced back at the older men, who met his eyes.

“...I think I screwed up,” the blond admitted.

“...You'll only screw up if you don't go and tell him that everything's okay,” Gladio said. “Don't mind us. We'll keep the party going,” he smiled kindly, gesturing with his beer can. Ignis, too, declined to joke, merely turning to Gladio and settling into casual conversation, absent-mindedly taking the Cards Against Humanity from the kitchen counter and eyeing the back of the box in speculation.

Without another word, Prompto followed Noctis through the warm gloom of the apartment, the comforting throb of the music lowering slightly as he approached the Prince's bedroom door, and replaced with the eternal pattering of cold October rain.

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

Prompto rapped lightly on Noct's shut door before opening it, knowing that there was no lock on the other side. Peeping round the edge of it, he saw Noctis leaning against his windowsill, and felt both guilty and idiotic for half-expecting the Prince to be on his bed, masturbating furiously.

As it was, his best friend had opened one of the huge windows, and was leaning out, his homemade eyemask on the floor beside him. Torrential rain was blustering across the threshold of the darkened room, spraying random, icy-cold water into Noct's face and hair. Before he could speak, Prompto watched Noctis blow water from his features, then close the window once more, the rain continuing to batter it, sounding like ball bearings against the glass. The brunette turned and was surprised to catch the blond's eye; he flushed, scratched his head and stared at his dim orange nightlight, the sole, comforting source of low light, saying nothing.

“I...um...I guess you won! Congrats!” Prompto offered, with a pathetic fist-pump and a hopeful grin.

“Look...Prom...this is really awkward. Just...go back to the others. And forget about this. Please?” Noct asked tiredly, looking dishevelled and depressed. The loud music could still be heard from the living area, but more than anything, both teens could _feel_ it through the floor, and vibrating in the cool air.

The blond lowered his head, scuffing his heavy boot on the carpet self-consciously. “I shouldn't have opened my big mouth. I was a jerk. I'm sorry Noct.”

“...Right,” Noct mumbled, crossing his pale arms across his T-shirt, his silver-black hair dripping steadily and miserably onto himself.

“...Uh...just out of curiosity...was it...you know...?” Prompto was fidgeting constantly now. 

The Prince raised an incriminating eyebrow, looking peeved. “What?”

“Was it...was it me? I mean... _because_ of me?”

“Well obviously, dumbass,” Noct muttered quietly, turning his back and slumping heavily onto the edge of his bed, his leg tapping agitatedly. “If you're gonna mock me, just piss off.”

Prompto recoiled, spluttering. “No, no, I wouldn't! Noct, I _wouldn't_ , ever. I wasn't kidding when I said you looked super hot, you know,” he chuckled nervously. “What I mean is...well, I was kinda feeling it too, haha...guess I didn't quite get as far as you though...anyway, I...didn't mean to make you feel bad. I just wanted to come and see if you were okay. You know...just lighten the mood a bit. It's no big deal, happens to everyone,” he rambled, clearing his throat several times and fiddling rather violently with the bandana tied around his right bicep, nails picking at the well-worn fabric.

Noctis didn't quite know what to say to this babbling monologue, so he nibbled on his bottom lip and stared at his floor, absorbing his best friend's continued chatter. He soon realised that the blond wasn't going to leave unless he assured him that he was fine.

“Twister was probably a bad idea, huh? But hey, we can go back and play some video games, maybe? I got God of War! That's pretty safe! And I can try and remember more cocktails with rude names and we can get totally smashed!” Prompto exclaimed.

The Prince's vision was swimmy, his thoughts were lethargic and he was gasping for some water; nevertheless, the idea of getting _utterly_ wasted - wasted enough to forget what happened just now, whilst encouraging the other guys to do the same – sounded very appealing. The hangover would absolutely be worth a few obliterated memory cells.

“Yeah. Sure. Give me a minute,” Noct told the agitated blond, who had scratched his nose and was staring at the black smudge on his finger, apparently forgetting the oily warpaint he had applied as part of his costume. Noctis cleared his throat, trying to drop the hint, but Prompto wasn't making a move.

“Ah crap, my boots are coming untied and everything. Worst. Soldier. Ever! Ha ha!”

“ _Prom_! Get out, would you? I'll be done in a minute,” Noctis yelled irritably, belatedly noticing a bottle of lukewarm water on his sleek bedside table, and downing a few huge swallows gratefully. Wiping his mouth with his forearm afterwards, breathing hard, he narrowed his eyes at his friend across the amber shadows of his room. Prompto was staring at him, making zero effort to vacate.

“Are you...um...” the blond began, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. 

“What? Am I what?” Noct spat. At this rate, it wasn't going to be necessary to take care of himself after all. His erection was nearly completely gone. Still, it might be a good idea to 'calm it down' now and prevent any potential later mishaps.

“Are you gonna jerk off?” Prompto asked quietly, biting his lip and looking pathetically innocent. Noctis didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

“I...Gods, what the _hell!_? Yeah, I am, you saw what happened.” _Felt it, more like_ , he reminded himself shamefully. “So just get lost and quit talking to me!” 

The blond pulled a face expressing keen indecision, and he sighed out a strained little noise. “Well it's just...you know I like you, right?”

Noctis closed his eyes tiredly and exhaled to cool his temper. “Prompto...you're drunk. _I'm_ drunk. And I just want two goddamn minutes alone. Don't start talking crap.”

“It's not crap!” his best friend retorted, voice stronger and louder as he took a couple of challenging steps forward. “And yeah, _you_ might be kinda wasted but I'm not. You're here about to touch yourself, looking hot as hell, and maybe I'm feeling a little brave, and want to kiss you. Yeah, I like you _that_ way. And maybe I'm not gonna see you much any more now school's over and you're the fucking Prince. Maybe I'm _never_ gonna see you again, and maybe I figured it was worth the risk to ask you if you wanna be with me. Even just for tonight. Even just for five _minutes_ , 'cos Gods know it'd be worth it for me and I could die happy because it's what I've fantasised about for years. You got hard because of me, and I figured that meant maybe I had a shot. But if I'm wrong and out of order, tell me, and I'll get out right now, I promise, and I won't say anything, and you don't have to talk to me ever again.”

Noctis stared at his best friend across the amber-shadowed room, mute with shock. Even as he tried to parse the magnitude of Prompto's words, his brain seemed to short-circuit and merely inform him of the throb of a slight pain behind his eyes, the pins and needles in his fingers, the sensation of ice-cold raindrops plopping randomly onto his lap and his crossed, bare arms. The blond appeared enviably calm now, his fidgeting ended. Gelled, messy hair tumbled rebelliously into his cobalt eyes. 

The Prince licked his lips, mouth parting unsteadily to suck in a sharp, shaky breath. Prompto seemed to interpret something unspoken as rejection, and he nodded and turned, looking quietly distraught. 

“ _No_...Prom, wait,” Noct uttered, his voice cracked. He stood quickly, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides in quandary. 

“Sorry, I...maybe I'm more drunk than I thought,” Prompto shrugged his muscled shoulders, huffing a short laugh. He winced noticeably when the ubiquitous Insomnia thunderstorm grumbled at the edge of a black, bleak populous horizon. Noctis, at first glance, looked untouchably impressive silhouetted against the low orange glow of his nightlight. However, the Prince's awkward and anxious body language and the adorable peaks of his cat ears served to lessen Prompto's fear, and he spoke up again.

“So...you gonna hit me or kiss me?” he joked, scratching the back of his head.

There was another vacuum of tense silence, and then Noctis strode forward, seized Prompto's dogtags in one hard fist, yanked him forward, and delivered a rough and punishing kiss. With an aborted whine, the blond staggered a little, steadying himself by planting his hands on Noct's strong shoulders, and then gasping with each feverish, biting kiss before he could even think about trying to breathe, let alone reciprocate.

Noct's forceful kisses stopped abruptly, though he still held Prompto's dogtags in a death grip, the sharp metal edges digging into his palm and his knuckles white. Their noses bumped, their breaths gusted together, and they swayed and shivered with dizzy surprise. The Prince's flawless pale skin was smudged with some of Prompto's black facepaint, and Prompto's own skin was wet from Noct's dripping hair, and from misplaced and urgent kisses.

“Noct, is this okay?” the blond whispered frantically, his words slurring a little in the dark. Noctis seemed to understand completely, and his own compromised voice squeezed out a tight sigh of affirmation. Prompto squeaked as the Prince's left hand grabbed his backside and squeezed it very hard, pulling him close in a jarring movement, forcing him painfully against the rock-solid tent in the Prince's black jeans.

“Holy _shit_ , Noct,” Prompto managed, before he was pulled into another brutal kiss. The Prince's damp black hair tickled his face at the same time that his manhood was poking him with bruising purpose, and the contrast was nearly hallucinogenic. Reluctantly, the blond used his hands to exert stilling pressure on the Prince's shoulders, and to his surprise, the brunette obediently pulled back with sleepy-dark eyes and reddened lips.

“I...m'sorry, I don't know...” Noct started, swallowing and looking dazed. “This is new for me,” he admitted sotto voce, almost drowned out by the relentlessly battering rain on his vast bedroom windows, which were sheeted with tears of cold water.

“Me too. You wanna...take it a bit slower?” Prompto asked, trying not to exhibit his anxiousness that this potentially one-off event might be rushed to a conclusion of dazed, hasty, and never-to-be-repeated memories. Noctis, to his relief and joy, nodded quickly, and gave a deep-toned little laugh. Prompto couldn't help but reward him with a small, tender kiss, the first one not initiated by the Prince. Noctis reacted as if it was the first kiss they had _ever_ shared, easing out a soft groan and cupping the blond's narrow jaw tremulously, as if he hadn't just been violating his best friend with his own mouth.

“Gods...Noct...this is...mm...” Prompto was muttering against Noct's mouth every time there was a split-second of distance between them, and Noctis startled him by laughing. 

“Still a motormouth. Lay...uh...lay down?” he asked, more of a query than an instruction. He was surprised when Prompto not only nodded, but pulled his black tank top over his head and tossed it onto the floor. Noct didn't manage to swallow his rush of saliva quick enough and he choked briefly, staring with transparent desire at the sculpted muscles of Prompto's chest, the silver dogtags nestled upon his pectorals. 

Wiping his mouth, becoming too far gone to be embarrassed by the fact that he was almost literally drooling, Noctis peeled off his own T-shirt with a crackle of static, letting it drop. Both of them raised their hands at once, chuckling dirtily as they caressed the other's torso, smoothing down each other's lean sides and narrow waist.

“How'd you get so damn ripped,” Noctis murmured, sighing weakly as his best friend rubbed a couple of teasing fingertips over his left nipple, which was pert and pointed under the influence of the chill of the room and blind thrill at being touched by Prompto. The blond just chuckled, and pushed his friend gently but firmly towards the monolithic bed which they had shared so many times before, and often in greater states of undress than they were now. Noctis clambered onto it, crawling backwards until he felt his plump black pillows behind him, the orange nightlight glowing above him.

Prompto lay very close beside him, resting a hand on Noct's denim-clad hip, and giving him a soft smooch, licking at his mouth cautiously. The Prince initially flinched, and then parted his lips, his blushes practically scalding Prompto's skin as their warm, wet tongues touched and slicked together tentatively. They exhaled restrained breaths into each other's mouths, dipping their tongues together a little more before indulging in fuller, deeper kisses, Prompto nudging impossibly closer, and then hooking his heavy, boot-clad leg across Noct's, giving him a playful hump.

“You able to keep quiet?” the brunette asked in a hoarse whisper, sighing comfortingly with each repeated kiss and every shift of the roaming hand upon his bare waist.

“Why? Music's loud. Rain's loud. They're not gonna hear anything,” Prompto murmured back, pushing questing fingers under Noct's tight waistband and revelling in the sublime, smooth heat of his best friend's skin.

“Are we...uh......”

“Yeah. Looks like we are,” Prompto snickered softly. 

Noctis bit him gently on the lip. “ _Shh_. I mean...are we gonna...uh...”

The blond paused, his fingers stilling under Noct's waistband. “I...I don't know. You want to?” 

“Yeah, but...I haven't got any...any stuff, you know,” the brunette mumbled, focussing his attention on the freckles on Prompto's pectorals, instead of his own embarrassment. 

“...Hands, then?” the blond asked, with enviable surety.

Noctis nodded, relieved. “Yeah. That's good. Perfect.”

“Hey, we haven't even started yet,” Prompto winked. “Two seconds, Highness!” he abruptly sat up and started unlacing his boots as fast as he could. 

“Don't start with that,” Noctis chuckled, kicking off his own black sneakers, hesitating, and then undoing his belt and jeans whilst his best friend busied himself (cursing quietly all the while) with trying to remove his heavy combat boots.

The Prince was laying in his black briefs, and nothing else, when Prompto floomped back down on the bed, looking worn out from unpicking endless fiddly laces.

“Oh dude, you're getting ahead of me! Can't have that,” he panted, and undid his own series of belts, pulling them away from himself with a few leathery snaps, then yanking open the zip of his fatigues, wriggling out of them with very little finesse, managing to look quite adorable as he finally denuded himself, leaving his white underwear on. Both teens grinned in the gloom and shivered, squirming closer to each other and giggling into another kiss, which almost immediately became urgent and noisy with lip smacks and clicks of teeth and tongues.

Noctis made the brave move of pushing his hips towards Prompto's blindly, it didn't take long for his own swollen and excited erection to nudge against his best friend's, resulting in a delightful, throaty sigh. Both teens voyeuristically glanced down to watch their clothed shafts slide roughly and thoughtlessly, pushing into each other like sightless animals in rut.

“Shit, that's _hot_ ,” Prompto exclaimed in breathy awe, and Noctis agreed wholeheartedly.

“Off,” came Noct's laconic grunt, and he thumbed Prompto's underwear down over slim hips, nearly aspirating again when the thick flesh of his cock bumped with a faint slap against the concave planes of his belly. The sweet-salty scent of it permeated the cool air, and the gem of liquid at its tip glistened in the amber dark. 

With a small whine of desperation, Noctis pulled down his own briefs, shivering with anxiety and the clammy coolness of his bedroom. Before Prompto, whose eyes were dark with eager intensity, could grab for him, he sat up and threw back the covers, urging his best friend to join him. Prompto acquiesced immediately, and they snuggled with faint chuckles and random quick kisses under the heavy black duvet.

“Ah, I can't see it now,” the blond grumbled playfully, and Noct huffed a laugh tight with amusement and anticipation.

“Next time.”

Prompto paused, meeting his eyes and seeing that he was serious, and seemed to relax, smiling warmly. The tender moment soon evolved into something far more visceral, Prompto taking hold of Noct's member in one cool hand, keeping eye contact, licking his thin lips.

“ _Ah_! Oh... _fuck_ ,” Noct seethed, closing his eyes tight and pressing his face into the pillow beneath him, breathing hard. He fumbled one hand forward to hold onto Prompto's firm bicep, which flexed under his fingers with every slow, sure stroke of his cock. The movements were simple, with just the tiniest extravagance of an experimental squeeze under the swollen head, and it made Noctis want to sob with disbelief at the pleasure of it. His breath heaved out in a dismayed groan as he felt himself leak a pulse of hot fluid onto his best friend's fist, and he buried his face harder into his warmed pillow, shivering in humiliation.

“ _Oh my Gods,_ ” he heard Prompto utter, his hand paused in its ministrations, and for once Noctis wanted some clarification. Were those words of disgust, or appreciation?

Prompto's hand suddenly left him bereft. The next thing he heard, to his mortification, was a sound like somebody slurping hot coffee. Lifting his face from the sanctuary of the pillow, his damp fringe stuck to his forehead, Noctis stared as Prompto licked his lips, having sucked Noct's pre-come from his knuckles.

“Tastes like me,” Prompto observed huskily, with an innocent smile, as if he hadn't just said the most arousing thing that Noctis had ever heard in his life. Gobsmacked that Prompto was happy to admit that he knew his own taste, and was now comparing it to his own shameful outpourings, the Prince just gulped and watched as the blond fumbled under the duvet and took hold of him again, pumping assiduously. Noctis felt quite unable to endure the watchful, hungry gaze of his best friend, so he shivered for breath and reacquainted himself with his pillow, brows furrowed and heart thundering as his dormant pleasure rapidly surfaced, harder, faster, throbbing almost to the point of pain.

It was only a minute or two later that Noct's hand began unconsciously clenching on his best friend's powerful bicep, his legs shifting in shallow, needy movements, and his orgasm began to threaten with every upstroke. Dangerously close, his hips twitching, then pushing, and then thrusting urgently against the blond, Noct's voice finally groaned out against the pillow, high with the panic of his imminent climax and his breathing feverishly rapid.

“Prom...Prom! Ah....ah, fuck.... _fuck_!”

He eased over the edge with nerve-wracking slowness, having no power over his pleasure, and he cried raggedly, clawing at Prompto, terrified that he wasn't going to get through the orgasm that was practically _oozing_ through him. To his absolute relief, Prompto's hand sped up instinctively, working him rapidly to his accustomed peak and through it, shivery and sweating, and squirting hot semen onto his mattress, catching on the underside of his duvet, dripping and slippery on his best friend's warm skin.

“ _Ugh...jeez...shit_ ,” Noctis whispered, his lungs wheezing for air and his muscles quivering with exertion. His damp hair was slick upon his pale forehead, trailing down into pleasure-tired indigo eyes. 

“Dude, that was incredible,” Prompto whispered back with excited awe, licking his lips and blatantly itching with impatience to find his own relief. 

The Prince just whimpered, and said nothing while he recovered for thirty seconds. After what seemed an age to Prompto, the brunette chuckled and gave him a lingering, tired kiss.

“Mm...how'd you want it?” Noct asked, utterly sated and quite prepared to accede to any request. 

“Uh...well...it won't take long,” Prompto confessed, in his typical bright and sunny fashion, though his darkened cheeks beneath the smudged and mostly-disappeared black paint gave away his agitated state, as did his speedy breaths and dilated eyes. “You have no idea how freaking hot you were right now.”

“So...?” Noct encouraged, easing back the covers just a little, eyeing the sweat-damp gleam on Prompto's collarbone with muted hunger. 

“Hand is good. Unless you wanna, I dunno, change it up a bit. Do whatever you want,” the blond urged him excitably.

Hearing some unspoken request in there, Noctis took a gamble on the secret desire and nodded.

“'Kay. I'll do whatever I want,” he promised, smirking. He nudged down the duvet a little more, and then uncovered his best friend's impressive, gently-bobbing hard-on. Even in the low light, the jewel of liquid there before was now clearly a wet gloss that covered the entire shaft. 

“We taste the same, huh?” Noct asked in the huskiest growl he could muster, and he was gratified to see Prompto physically shiver and become coy.

“I, uh...well, you know...” the blond fidgeted in the amber shadows. 

The Prince nudged him onto his back, shuffling down the bed on his elbows, and grasped the sticky cock in one hand, impressed by its girth and a heat that seemed like it might burn his palm. Glancing up, he saw the expression on the blond's face that he had expected – cautious, bright-eyed hope. He knew he had been right when he directed the hot flesh towards his own lips and gave the bulbous head a slow lick – he was rewarded with a long, loud, satisfied groan, and the distinct sound of his friend's head crashing back onto the pillow.

Noctis was ludicrously pleased with himself when Prompto's hands came to ruffle mindlessly in his damp hair, and the sensation of the inadvertent scalp massage was just as surprisingly comforting as the weight and warmth of the blood-heat that he had taken into his mouth and was suckling carefully. With honest intrigue, he pushed his tongue into the sour-sweet slit, and toyed with the soft foreskin, while his right hand squeezed in random rhythms. 

“Noct, _fuck_ you are good at that,” Prompto panted, his muscled chest heaving. “...But, uh...”

Noctis pulled back, worried that he was screwing something up. “Yeah?”

“I like it...looser. Like...” the blond took hold of himself with practised ease and made a wide circle with his fingers, so that when he pumped himself, he was barely touching the skin of the inside of his hand. “I'm kinda sensitive,” Prompto shrugged apologetically.

Not really seeing how Prompto could get off like that, but absolutely determined to pleasure him, Noctis nodded and copied the movement, barely tickling him with each stroke. Immediately, Prompto began to laugh throatily, his head crushed back into the pillow and his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed repeatedly.

“Oh...oh yeah...wow, that's _it_ ,” the blond exclaimed wheezily into the gloom.

Bolstered with confidence, Noctis grinned to himself and continued with the light ministrations of his hand. “Mouth okay too?” 

“Oh _fuck_ yes Noct, your mouth is _very_ okay,” Prompto sighed dreamily. 

The Prince went back to work, absorbing his best friend's drawn-out, wispy sighs and occasional little cry of bliss. After several minutes, his jaw and wrist beginning to ache and his scalp tingling with Prompto's endless rummaging, the blond suddenly tensed up sharply, his heels dragging across the mattress and a high-pitched whine sounding out across the pattering rain.

“Noct, oh Gods! Ah, Noct! Noct, it's close!” Prompto sobbed with wretched ecstasy, fingers tightening hard in Noctis' hair, his cock pushing rudely and helplessly into his mouth, seeking deeper heat. 

Holding Prompto's pulsing shaft loosely, the Prince decided, with barely time to spare, to swallow, and he had just sealed his lips over the swollen head when the blond came hard. Salty-sour liquid gushed into his mouth, and he savoured it curiously for a few seconds before ingesting it in two soothing swallows. Prompto had forced out a wonderful, throat-burning cry, and now was laughing through his aftershocks, his breathless giggles interspersed with deep moans of disbelieving pleasure.

Noctis pulled himself up on sore arms and scooted back to the head of the bed, feeling very pleased with himself. Prompto was resting his hands on his smooth belly, eyes closed, smiling, and looking completely blissed-out.

“You're a giggler,” Noctis observed drily, causing his friend to collapse into further chuckles, covering his sweaty face with his forearm in embarrassment. 

“That's unfair. It's NOCT good manners to make fun of someone's orgasms,” Prompto chided him, giggling sweetly.

“And you're right. We do taste the same,” the brunette added, and Prompto uncovered his face, meeting Noct's eyes with playful affection.

“...Was it...okay? For you?” the blond asked softly.

“...Freaking amazing,” Noct told him after a long, teasing pause of rumination. Prompto let out a relieved huff of breath, laughing again, and nodding in agreement.

“I can't argue with that, dude. Seriously.” Prompto quietened, and pulled himself to sit up against the black headboard, beside his best friend. He tentatively snuggled closer against him, and pulled the duvet up over their laps, shifting his legs to avoid the cold, wet spot on the mattress from Noct's climax. The Prince happily accepted the snuggle, turning to give Prompto a quick, experimental kiss, and enjoyed the enthusiastic reply he received.

“In an ideal world we would just chill in bed now,” Noctis mused.

“In an ideal world that's _all_ you would do, ya lazy ass,” Prompto retorted fondly. “But yeah. The party beckons. I think we've both been gone long enough to arouse a whole shit-ton of suspicion,” he snickered.

“Yeah well, they've been teasing us for months. They can't possibly be surprised.” 

Prompto let out a small noise of thoughtful affirmation, and then spoke up again.

“I got a question for ya.”

“Spill.” 

“This party went pretty well, right?”

“I would say so,” Noct smirked, raising one sweat-damp hand and booping the tip of Prompto's elfin nose with a fingertip. 

The blond reciprocated by petting the crispy, gelled hair of one of Noct's styled cat ears, winking.

“In that case, kitty...doing anything for Christmas this year?”

  


End file.
